Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Malawi and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Durutti Column to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Doors. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Marc Almond,
Jimmy McGriff,
PIL,
Albert Ayler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Prince Buster,
Lakeside,
The Gun Club,
The Blackbyrds,
Deadbeat,
Sarah Menescal,
Duran Duran,
Second Layer,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fela Kuti,
Pussy Galore,
The Walker Brothers,
Fatback Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Warren Ellis,
Adolescents,
The Selecter,
UT,
John Foxx,
Ralphi Rosario,
Index,
Negative Approach,
Warsaw,
cv313,
Deakin,
The Neon Judgement,
Saccharine Trust,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Graham Central Station,
Heaven 17,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Sherman,
Todd Terry,
Joey Negro,
Blake Baxter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jesper Dahlback,
Talk Talk,
This Heat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
EPMD,
Yaz,
Gang of Four,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Michelle Simonal,
Bob Dylan,
Oneida,
Electric Prunes,
The Searchers,
Sandy B,
Harry Pussy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yazoo,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.